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Summary: A female coach and a cheerleader fall for each other.
NOTE 1: This story is dedicated to Kayla…you are a dream!
NOTE 2: Thank you, Estragon, for continuing to edit my work.
NOTE 3: This is a Valentine’s Contest Story so please vote!!!
How do you define love? Many would describe it as a man and a woman who can’t live without each other, get married, have two kids, move to a house with a picket fence, and live happily ever, after watching TV reruns.
That is what I thought love was, at one point. Yet, after meeting Kayla, I have learned that there are many types of love and ways to express it. I love Kayla unconditionally. I love her for her beauty which overwhelms me; I love her for her tenderness which is so sweet; I love her for her heart and her compassion which knows no boundaries; and I love her for teaching me what real love is…unconditional acceptance.
If you ever saw how we live you might not call it love. You very likely would call it perverted or morally wrong…well, many of you would. Yet, it is my accepting that Kayla needs complete discipline, my complete ownership, that has made our relationship work. I am her owner now and she my pet. I make all her decisions now: what she wears in public, what she eats, what she reads…everything. This, in turn, makes her completely subservient to me, completely at my command and…makes her completely happy. She thrives on obedience in a way I can’t explain. She obeys without reservation and I in return protect her from predators, keep her, and cherish her.
Our love may be unorthodox, but our love is purer, more mutually pleasurable, than any other love either of us has ever experienced.
One day, maybe I will tell the story of our day-to-day lives and just how loyal and obedient she is, but for now, I will tell the story of how we met and how she became mine.
Again this is a love story…not your parent’s love story, maybe…but a love story nevertheless…OUR LOVE STORY!
FLASHBACK TO WHEN WE MET
They say that the Devil uses temptation as a way to make good people sin. Well, if that is the case, then Kayla is the Devil’s masterpiece of temptation. The girl drips sex the same way honey drips sweetness. If you get one taste, you are forever addicted, and in my case the temptation becomes an obsession.
I have coached cheerleading for years. After divorcing my cheating husband, I was thirty, single and bitter. So when a new job came up in California, I applied, got it and moved halfway across the country to be the new cheerleading coach at a brand new college in California.
Now having been a cheerleader, I have had a variety of girl-on-girl sexual experiences in my life, although none since getting married almost seven years ago. I quit cold turkey, and although I often had lingering cravings, my husband was good in bed and my wi-vibe was a great back-up. But, being single again and after three disastrous first and only dates, I suddenly began to long the touch of a female.
Then came Kayla.
She was beautiful in the way you only see on movies. Her long blonde hair was silky smooth, her smile deviously naughty and her blue eyes hypnotic. The first time I saw her, my legs weakened and I knew I was in trouble. Oddly, the moment I spoke to her, I realized she was more than a pretty, blonde cheerleader wannabe…she was sweet, soft-spoken and strangely eager to please. For a young woman as ridiculously pretty as she was, she wasn’t self-centered, egotistical or bitchy. No, she was shy, nervous and seemed to lack confidence.
During tryouts, she listened intently, worked her ass off and really showed her intelligence. When in her cheerleader’s outfit, she morphed from shy girl to confident woman, from timid and nervous to organized and a bona fide leader. I pulled her to the side during our second week of tryouts and complimented her, not even remotely considering seducing her at the moment (even though if truth be told a couple of my best late-night self-pleasure fantasies included her as the main attraction), “Kayla, you are a natural leader.”
She replied softly, as if embarrassed to be complimented, “Thank you, Miss Patel.”
I put my hand on her shoulder, still completely innocently, “No seriously, Kayla, you have amazing potential.”
Her cheeks went red and she stammered, “T-t-thanks, Miss Patel, your approval means a lot to me.” Her eyes turned from mine and I suddenly wondered if she was attracted to me. I pushed the thought quickly away, as at twenty-one or so she was nine years younger than me. It was absurd; although I am relatively attractive, I am not even in the same hemisphere of beauty as Kayla.
I am 5’5, with long straight brown hair, black eyes, firm legs and rather large 36D breasts, which I found more a hindrance than a blessing. First of all, as a cheerleader smaller breasts are obviously more convenient and as a fitness nut who jogged every day, I could never find a sports bra that properly supported my breasts.
For the next couple of casino oyna days, I began to notice that Kayla was taking lingering glances at me, and more specifically at my breasts, during our practices. The more I considered it, the more I began to wonder if perhaps she was bi-curious, although I doubted she had ever been intimate with a woman.
My own curiosity leading the way, I attempted to spend more time with the pretty blonde. After practice, I suggested, “Kayla, I would love to get your opinion on a few new ideas I have for routines.”
Her face went red as she answered. She genuinely seemed surprised I wanted her thoughts. “You really want my opinion?”
“Of course, Kayla,” I answered, my hand again going to her shoulder. I allowed it to linger on her perfectly tanned skin longer than socially acceptable, but not long enough to make my naughty wanton desires too obvious.
She answered, her submissive tendency clearly showing, “Anything you wish, Miss Patel.”
“You are such a good girl,” I replied, vaguely suggesting a relationship where she would be utterly obedient to me.
Her face blushed even redder as she answered, “Yes, Miss Patel.”
She left to finish her routines. After practice, we spent an hour talking and I was amazed at how, once she got comfortable with our conversation, her ideas flowed with such creativity and ambition that I had to rein her in. She glowed with such light that I wanted to devour her whole. I wanted to kiss her glossy lips, which I imagined were as soft and sweet as she was.
That night I fantasized her posing for me. I imagined her long blonde hair cascading down past her shoulders, her lips puckered just enough to imply she wanted to be kissed. Her outfit left little to my imagination, as each curve was accentuated by her white dress.
In the fantasy she repeated the tempting words, “Anything you wish, Miss Patel”.
I replied, “You have to be careful how you choose your words, Kayla; someone could spin those words against you.”
She asked innocently, “How could you spin those words against me, Miss Patel?”
“Oh, Kayla, I was just pointing out how your innocence could be used against you.”
“I don’t understand,” she responded, confused.
“Well,” I said, walking over to her, my hand going to her shoulders. “If I was a lesbian, I could saunter over to you, put my hands on your shoulders and lead you to your knees.”
I did exactly that and she fell to her knees. Her eyes looked up at me and she asked, stammering just slightly, “T-t-then what could happen?”
“I could lift up my skirt,” I began, which I did, “and order you to lick my delicious pussy and make you my little personal pussy-pleaser.”
She broke eye contact and stared at my sweet pussy and light patch of black pubic hair. Her lips broke into a lustful smile and she waited further instruction.
I asked, “Are you still willing to do anything I wish?”
“Yes, Miss Patel,” she replied.
“I want your pretty face buried in my wet pussy,” I said.
“Yes, Miss Patel, anything you wish,” she replied, like the submissive little bombshell she was. She leaned forward, extended her tongue and began licking my pussy.
The fantasy had me coming hard, and I fell asleep pondering ways to seduce her.
The next day, after practice was done, I saw something that proved every assumption about Kayla I had correct, and also put me in an awkward situation. Practice was done and I had left the field to go to another meeting when I realized I left my keys on a bench. Turning the corner, I froze in my tracks.
Kayla was posing for two of my other cheerleaders. She was lifting up her skirt, without her panties, which I was certain she had been wearing earlier because of the kicks she had been doing during practice. She was looking back seductively, smiling slightly at Kelly and Laura.
I watched in voyeuristic awe as both girls bossed her around, while snapping photos. Kelly, my black cheerleading captain, demanded, “Bend over, slut.”
Instantly, Kayla obeyed, bending over while saying, “Yes, Mistress Kelly.”
Laura, a bitchy redhead who was a complete diva, ordered, “Finger your pussy, cunt.”
“Yes, Mistress Laura,” Kayla replied obediently, her finger going to her completely shaved pussy.
The two girls laughed, as Kelly instructed, “We expect you at my apartment at 7.”
“Yes, Mistress Kelly,” she replied, a soft moan escaping her lips.
“Come for us, slut,” Laura demanded.
“Yes, Mistress Laura.” Kayla obeyed, beginning to finger herself quickly in front of her two teammates.
“Now!” Kelly demanded, and in a few seconds Kayla whimpered and came all over herself.
Laura laughed, shaking her head, as the two girls began walking the other way, leaving poor Kayla with her finger still in her vagina, “What a slut.”
I slowly backed away, making sure none of the three saw me, my head spinning with how I should deal with this as a coach…or…how I could use this to slot oyna my advantage. I waited a couple of minutes. When I returned Kayla was gone too. I found my keys and headed to my meeting, a plethora of potential opportunities bouncing in my head like Kayla’s perky breasts during a cheer.
That night I wondered what Kelly and Laura had instore for her.
I had another fantasy, another totally fulfilling orgasm. This time Kayla was in an even shorter, more revealing outfit…a skimpy pink nightie. She looked so innocent, even if her nightie implied otherwise. The nightie so short, I could see most of her pussy and that she was completely shaved. My mouth watered anticipating how she would taste.
Knowing she was submissive now, I ordered, “Come to me, my pet.”
Obeying instantly, she walked to me and fell to her knees without instruction. She looked up at me with an eagerness that was adorably hot. She asked her voice so innocent, “What can I do for you, ma’am?”
I turned it back on her, “What do you want to do for me?”
“Anything you wish,” she replied, the sweet mantra of utter submission.
“You will lick my pussy?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” she replied.
“You will rim my butthole?” I questioned.
“Yes, ma’am,” she answered, her submissive desire to please never withering.
“You will show me your tits?”
“Yes, ma’am,” and she stood up, lifted up her nightie, showing me her small, perky breasts.
I complimented her. “You have beautiful breasts.”
She smiled, “They are tiny compared to yours Miss. Patel.”
“That may be true,” I answered, “but it’s about the whole package, my pet. And you, Kayla, have the whole package.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” she replied, waiting patiently for her next order.
“Back on your knees,” I ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” she obeyed, instantly dropping to her knees.
“Do you want to eat my pussy, Kayla?” I asked, lifting up my dress.
“Desperately,” she answered, leaning forward, her pretty face beginning to lick my pussy.
I quivered, shook and an orgasm hit me hard as my fingers got me off, fantasizing about Kayla as my submissive. As I lay in bed completely spent, I knew even though I shouldn’t, I was going to make her mine.
During practice, I disappeared to the change room and snooped Linda’s phone. Besides the pictures of her posing yesterday in the field, there were a couple of others, although these were way naughtier. My pussy instantly tingled at the sight of the naked, beautiful, sweet, goddess.
Her firm ass bent and her naughty facial expression as she touched herself was amazingly erotic. Her look was pornstar sexy, completely opposite of the sweetness I saw every day at cheerleading practice.
The second picture again hid her delicious looking pussy, but her small breasts and luscious platinum hair showcased her perfect beauty. I wondered what else Kelly and Laura had made my sweet Kayla do. A part of me wanted to protect her from these powerful manipulative girls, yet a bigger part of me wanted to have her to myself. I texted the pics to myself and then deleted them from the phone and any evidence that they had been texted to me.
I put the phone back and returned to finishing practice. Once it was done, I asked Kayla to stay behind after she showered. Half an hour later, she was in my office. I told her, “Kayla, I want you to be captain of my team.”
The first look on her face was utter joy, although it was quickly replaced by concern when she attempted to reject the honour. “Miss Patel, I am sooooo honoured, but I think Kelly or Laura would be better choices.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Because they are older and have more experience,” she answered.
“That may be true, but you work harder,” I countered.
“But, um, I,” she stammered.
I walked over to her, putting my hand on her shoulders, “Is it because Kelly and Laura bully you, my dear?”
She looked up startled at my accusation and quickly defended them, “Oh, no-no. It is nothing like that.”
“I saw them taking pictures of you and calling you derogatory names,” I revealed.
Her head went down and her face instantly went beet red.
“Why do you let them treat you like that?” I asked.
“They blackmailed me,” she admitted.
“How so?” I asked, turning around and sitting in front of her.
“Well,” she began, “A year ago, I had a boyfriend who tricked me into modeling rather provocatively and Kelly got a hold of the pictures and threatened to put them on the net.”
I asked, “How bad are they?” I asked.
She pressed a couple of buttons on her phone and handed it to me.
I looked at the picture and got instantly tingly. She looked absolutely stunning. She was seductive, sexy and her pierced belly button was hot. Yet, this was hardly anything to be blackmailed over. If anything it was the perfect picture to seduce.
I said, “Kayla, you look beautiful here. A little revealing sure, but nothing to be ashamed of. You have canlı casino siteleri a beautiful body and should feel comfortable flaunting it.”
“Flip to the next picture,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
Curious, I did as she suggested and let out a small gasp as everything I had fantasized about was now staring me directly in the face.
“Well, that is naughtier,” I agreed, “but still you have hid all the most private parts.”
“Flip again,” she whispered.
Even more curious, and secretly hoping to see more of her perfect body, I flipped to the next picture. My panties got instantly wet and I felt the drip as I looked at her breasts peeking out, her hard nipples whetting my appetite and showing her excitement. Her legs partially spread open and seeing just a bit of her pussy lips and her completely bald mound had me all tingly inside. I moved the phone closer attempting to see if I could see more of her.
Trying to reassure her, I said, “Well, Kayla, this one definitely is risqué, but you could argue it wasn’t you as you can’t really see your face completely.”
“There is one more, Mistress, I mean ma’am,” she said, quickly correcting herself.
Taking the opportunity that she had given me, even if by accident, I asked, “Do you want me to be your Mistress, Kayla?”
She looked up finally, clearly surprised by the question, “You are not mortified by my past?”
I put her hand in mine and knelt down to look into her eyes. “Kayla, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met, both on the outside and in the inside. A couple of naughty pictures will not change that.”
“Really?” she responded, seemingly unable to believe my sincerity.
“Really,” I confirmed, “now let’s see this last picture.”
I flipped to it and stared at it, transfixed by her beauty. This was the sexiest picture I had ever seen. I said, “Well, I agree, this one could cause you trouble. It is definitely you. It shows your perky perfect breasts as well.”
“I know,” she whispered, clearly ashamed.
“Tell you what,” I said, handing her back her phone. “I will deal with Kelly and Laura tomorrow.”
“You will?” she asked, looking up at me with optimism.
“Yes. I will tell them if those pictures ever are released, they will be off the team.”
“You would do that for me?” she asked, lighting up.
“Of course,” I replied, before asking, “What did they make you do yesterday when they invited you over?”
She answered, in a whisper of shame, “I ate both of their pussies.”
“Did you enjoy doing it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied, “I grew up in the south and have always been a very compliant girl, I have eaten a lot of girls, ma’am. I just can’t say no to people.”
“Even when asked to do sexually degrading things?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” she answered, before adding, her face now beet red again, “that turns me on.”
“What does?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting her to say it.
“Being told what to do,” she admitted.
“Are you a lesbian?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” she answered, “I like boys too.”
I leaned in, my lips inches from hers, “Do you want to please me, kitten?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered, her face flushed.
“Do you want to come to my place?”
“If you want me to,” she answered, subserviently.
“I do,” I replied, pulling her up and into me.
The kiss was warm, passionate and exactly as I had anticipated…perfect. Once I broke the kiss, I gave her my address and told her to meet me there as soon as she could. She left and I waited a few minutes before heading home to prepare for the training of my kitten.
As I drove home, I reflected on the brief time I had known Kayla. She was a walking contradiction. She was beautiful, but lacked the confidence that girls who looked like her always had. She seemed shy and innocent and submissive, yet I had a hunch she would be amazing when I got her in the bedroom. I recalled her shirt the first day we met, the irony of it was obvious now. ‘I can only please one person a day.’ I planned that today the one person being pleased would be me.
I got home, had a quick shower and dressed as a Mistress should. I had black thigh highs, matching boots with three-inch heels, a black thong, a leather skirt, and a white blouse.
I just finished getting ready when the doorbell rang. I opened it and was eye to eye with my beautiful cheerleader who had chosen to wear the exact same white t-shirt as the day I met her. I pondered the relevance and irony of such a choice, but let it go and invited her in.
She complimented me. “Miss Patel, you look amazing.”
“Thank you, Kayla,” I responded, “you always look amazing.”
She blushed and followed me into the living room. I asked, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure,” she responded shyly.
“Wine?” I asked.
“Whatever you are having, Miss Patel,” she replied, continuing her completely submissive role.
I went to the kitchen, poured a couple of glasses of wine and returned to my guest. The next fifteen minutes was spent with generic chat about cheerleading, school, and friends, to relax her, before I finally asked the question, “Are you sure you want to be my kitten?”
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